


That Grasp Alone

by gloss



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Anal Sex, Comeplay, Community: seasonofkink, Cuckolding, Emotion Play, F/M, Glum Porn, M/M, Open Relationships, Porn with Feelings, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-16 01:21:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7246486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloss/pseuds/gloss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finn gets off on the traces of other people Poe's fucked. Poe hasn't bothered to work out how *he* feels about that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Grasp Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Started [here](http://spaceoperafeerie.tumblr.com/post/145724543264/okay-how-about-this-their-relationship-is-open) and directly inspired by the riffing with cicak. This wouldn't exist without her.
> 
> Title from Levertov, "Everything That Acts is Actual".

We are faithful   
only to the imagination. What the   
imagination   
seizes   
as beauty must be truth. What holds you   
to what you see of me is   
that grasp alone.   


* * *

It doesn't take long for Finn to notice how much he enjoys encountering traces of other people on Poe: stray hairs, a new bruise, taste of Leia on his mouth & chin. Long-distance, post-facto voyeurism, traces he can savor, then erase.

*

Poe starts doing it, then, with more forethought. Great deliberation. A woman back on Yavin, cousin of a friend he hadn't seen since leaving for the academy: they have a great time, and Poe makes sure to hold her against his face longer than she might otherwise stay, long enough that she thoroughly soaks the beard he's grown in on this mission, long enough that he can still smell her three systems and a hyperlane later.

Long enough that Finn's welcome-home hug goes from overwhelming to _crushing_ , his face buried against Poe's neck, his mouth open to taste and scent right there on the tarmac.

Poe has to get through debriefing - " _do_ remember to shave, Commander, won't you?" - and a round of drinks with the squad before he's back in their bunk and Finn's mouth is back on him, his hands on Poe's ass, hauling him in.

"Who was she?" he's asking and Poe can't reply, not with the tangle of clothes in motion and the heat of Finn's breath on him and his tongue swirling up Poe's neck, into the beard. Finn closes his lips around the hair, tugs and sucks, and Poe pitches them forward, hands on Finn's shoulders. " _Who_?"

"Just --" Poe leans back to get that sting of pulled hair again. "Some girl. Nice kid."

Finn's teeth are in his beard now, on his skin, biting him. "Tell me about her."

"I can't," Poe says, swinging his leg over Finn's lap, grinding down. "That's all I know. Came like a hurricane, and I tried to save some --"

Finn works Poe's ass with his hands, fingers digging deep and hard, lifting and spreading his cheeks. "For me."

"For you, yeah."

*

"Some time," Finn says, and thrusts up fast and sharp, holding Poe down, right in place, "some time, next time, I want to be there."

Poe freezes and looks at him. "Yeah?"

"Watching you."

"Yeah."

*

This time, Finn's the one away, doing strike-team maneuvers. Poe gets extremely drunk - he's bored, and lonely, and, frankly, scared out of his mind - and manages to convince Selim Statura to fuck him right there behind the mess. He's not sure how he does it; it doesn't matter. Selim is stronger than he looks, and unsentimental, and gives Poe exactly what he needs. For several long minutes, Poe's out of his head, afire, a single perfectly-functioning system of nerves and sensation.

"Need a hand cleaning up?" Selim says when they're done. He's only asking to be polite. 

Poe's still on his hands and knees. He shakes his head as he straightens up, tugging down his shirt from where it's bunched up under his armpits. 

"Yeah, well --" Selim sucks his teeth, hesitating.

"I'm good," Poe says. He hears a short laugh, then the crunch of Selim's boots on the leaves as he departs. 

Alone now, the skin exposed over his thighs and ass going cold, he rubs both hands over his face. When he clenches his ass, echoes of orgasm skitter and throb through him. The slow seep of come down his inner thigh is the warmest thing here.

He yanks up his pants, clenching closed as tight as he can, and half-races, half-hobbles back to his bunk. The odd, jerky rhythm matches his thoughts: keep it together, keep it in, don't fuck **this** up. He pushes in a plug and tries to sleep without dreaming, let alone worrying.

When Finn returns several hours later, he's relatively unscathed but shaken, quieter than usual. His touches remain every bit as firm, decisive, but he's not saying much, not looking anywhere in particular. 

Poe's been there, many times. Seeing him like this is just about enough to shift him into there, in fact. Stay calm, detach, forget everything but the next step ahead of you. Hold on until the noise dies down and shit falls away.

This was a bad idea, he decides, Finn's in no frame of mind for stupid sex games. He goes to head to the refresher when Finn grabs him by the waist and pulls Poe backward. He finds the plug almost immediately - one hand on Poe's ass, fingers there, brushing.

"What's this?" he asks, hand going still, pressing against the base of the plug through two layers of fabric.

"Stupid, forget it --"

Finn looks at him, eyes soft, voice softer. "No, what is it?"

"Saving it," Poe says, "for you, I guess, in case --"

Finn's free hand cups his face. His fingertips brush the edge of Poe's eye socket, where the scars from the Finalizer are almost invisible now. "Yeah? You have fun?"

"Not fun," Poe says. "Not fun. Necessary, maybe, needed it, but not --"

Finn's kiss kind of melts against his mouth. Poe half-stands up, steps out of his trousers, shimmies out of his shorts, and straddles Finn's thigh again, reaching for his crotch, deepening the kiss.

"Missed you," Finn's saying, slowly, repeating himself. Over and over.

"Yeah," Poe says, into his mouth, sealing the words. "Me, too."

Finn spreads his legs, gets Poe up on his knees, presses his mouth on the base of Poe's throat, right where the collarbone splits. He runs a finger in circles around the plug's base, his tongue around one clavicle knob, and his own cock swells in Poe's grip. When he eases the plug out, there's a short gasp, Poe gone hollow, then a moan as he replaces it with two, maybe three, fingers.

"Missed you," Finn says again, teeth in Poe's shoulder as Poe fucks himself up and down on Finn's hand, uses Statura's tacky old come as terrible lube. The burn, the hitched-breath discomfort, is worth it as Finn starts fucking into Poe's fist, thrusting and rolling, head falling back, almost a smile on his lips.

"All yours," Poe's telling him, and isn't sure why, except that it's right, and also necessary, as he squeezes on Finn's fingers, sinks down, then drags himself up. Finn's reclining now, watching him, eyes bright, teeth brighter, smile widening. "Feel that?"

"Yeah," Finn says, hoarse and husky, rocking against Poe, adding another finger, bending his knees to tip Poe forward. Their dicks brush and smack together as Poe lands on his hands and pushes back. "Yeah, yeah, I feel you."

Poe kisses him again, grinding their dicks together, pulling almost all the way off Finn's fingers. He wants to suck Finn off, wants to sink down on his cock, wants to eat him out until the guy is shaking and begging. He wants _everything_ , all at once, to give Finn so much - reassurance, pleasure, fidelity - that it will be impossible ever to ignore, or dismiss, or forget. Instead, he flattens himself along Finn's torso, one arm around Finn's neck, their hips working together. 

"Did you come on his cock?" Finn asks, grasping Poe's hip now, holding him fast and thrusting hard. "Did he make you come?"

"No --" 

Groaning, Finn rolls them over, gets Poe on his stomach, and opens his legs. "You sure?"

Poe lifts his ass. "I'm sure."

"Why's it even matter? It doesn't matter," Finn says when he's halfway inside. He's gone still, one hand light on the small of Poe's back. "Maybe you came three, four, five times for him. You need it. You're good at it."

"It matters," Poe says, arching back, getting his arms under him and head on them. "Yours."

Finn half-grunts. It's not a laugh but it stands for one. Indicates where one _would_ go.

"I can't do this any more," Finn's saying, kissing the back of Poe's ear, his hairline, the side of his neck. "I don't want to do this any more."

After Finn comes, shuddering, shoving deeper, he wraps an arm around Poe's waist and pulls him over on his side, curling around Poe. Poe lost his erection somewhere back there; a memory of it trembles back when Finn strokes him, then recedes again.

"Okay," Poe says, and now he's the one going blank. Stay calm, one foot in front of the other, just keep it together. He squeezes Finn's forearm where it crosses his chest. "Okay, okay, whatever you want --"

It doesn't work. He fucks it up. He loses it. Nothing keeps together. They'll need to get one of them his own bunk, and there's all that bureaucratic shit to deal with, which Poe should probably do since he's older and he's been here longer and this is probably -- most likely -- his fault, and maybe he _will_ take up Statura's offer to relocate out to the Clacis sector with the new divisions now that he's alone, but he doesn't _want_ to be alone, but what else was going to happen eventually, really? This is what happens, every time, and if they're going to break up, at least they're both still alive.

At least Finn's still alive, that is.

Hot to the touch, sweat sticking him to Poe's back and legs, his breath slowing against Poe's ear. Very much alive.

Poe turns his head to press his cheek against Finn's mouth. "I'm sorry," he says. "I fucked this all up."

Finn's arm tightens on Poe. When he speaks, his voice is thick and sleepy. "What are you talking about?"

"This." He squeezes his eyes shut. "You, me. _This_. Of course you can't do it, you're too --"

"My knees, asshole," Finn says. "I can't kneel for too long, I can't stay --"

"Fuck."

"Yeah," Finn tells him. "What the _hell_ , Poe?"

"Hell if I know," he says and when he exhales, too much comes out, evacuates his chest, leaves him shaking. "Hell if I know."


End file.
